


sundown

by orphan_account



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Wild West AU, big RDR2 vibes, power au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:22:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25825066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Evan’s on the run for a crime he didn’t mean to commit. Now the sheriff wants him dead, and will do anything to hunt him down and bring him to justice.But Evan’s allies are even stranger than he could imagine...
Relationships: Brock Barrus/Brian Hanby, Daithi De Nogla/Tyler | I AM WILDCAT, Evan Fong/Jonathan | H2ODelirious, Marcel | BasicallyIdoWrk/Scotty | fourzer0seven
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	1. on duty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah! New book!
> 
> This one’s gonna be very different to txt msg, but I’m hoping you’ll enjoy it just as much! 
> 
> (Just realised this could technically be for Yeehawgust so that’s cool)

In a lot of people’s opinion, the outlaws of this town did a whole lot more good than the sheriff. What most people didn’t know, was that the sheriff knew damn well what he was doing. If anyone found out he’d been helping the outlaws, even the outlaws themselves, he’d be out of a job faster than the bullets out of his pistol. That being said, he hadn’t been caught... at least not yet.

There wasn’t much crime in the town anyway, but there were a few not-so-bad-guys running around, causing minimal trouble, nothing more than a harmless stick-up. The only other crime that went around was the two big, rich families who mostly controlled the town. They paid the sheriff and his (mostly incompetent) deputy.

The deputy was no more aware of the sheriff’s shenanigans than anyone else in the town, but he was young and naïve. Anyone else in his position would have noticed by now. But what he didn’t know, couldn’t hurt him, or so the sheriff thought.

* * *

“You’ll be in here a while.” The sheriff said, locking the holding cell in his office. 

“And I keeping tellin’ you, my partner’s just gonna come break me out again.” The brunette replied, crossing his arms.

“Y’all ain’t careful and you’ll get caught easier than shootin’ a damn cactus.” The sheriff chuckled, relaxing in his chair. “Just be careful that the poor fucker locked up with ya stays locked up. He’s only new.”

“No promises, sir.” The prisoner smirked. He glanced over to his cellmate as the sheriff sat down at his desk. He was sleeping on the floor, his dark black hair sticking out against the golden dust. He wore fairly well-off clothes, but he was ruffed up and looked kind of a wreak. Not that he’d be expected to look proper while in holding but there was some suspicion that maybe he was kicked out of his home.

He kicked the poor kid in the side.

“Ach!” The boy grumbled, slowly pushing himself off the ground. “What the fuck was that for?”

“Got lonely. I want to talk to someone.” He replied, leaning back against the wall. “What’s ya name, kid?”

“Why should I tell you?” The ‘kid’ huffed, though there definitely wasn’t much of an age difference, if there was one at all.

“I dunno, we got nothing else to do. May as well toss out a few ice-breakers.” He smiled as friendly as he could. “You can call me Scotty.”

“Well, I’m Evan. And for the record: I don’t trust you.” ‘Evan’ said.

“Completely understandable. I wouldn’t expect a newbie like ya to trust a regular like me. Don’t you worry, though: I’ll be gone outta here come the morn.” Scotty grinned, sending an obvious shiver down Evan’s spine.

“How come? Sheriff and the deputy’ll be here 24/7.” Evan raised a sceptic eyebrow at him. Scotty chuckled.

“Let’s just say, I got a damn good partner in crime.”

* * *

The deputy was on duty that night, making their escape plan so much easier.

Scotty would wait until sundown, when the sheriff went out on night patrol. Then, easy as pie, Marcel would open the cell from the outside. Stealing the keys from the deputy was next to trivial when you were invisible, after all.

“What the fuck?!” Evan whisper-shouted, just as cautious to let the deputy sleep. The keys appeared to fly over to the cell and unlock the door. “What the actual, literal fuck?!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Scotty smirked, walking too casually over to the door, which swung open shortly after. “You coming?” He asked.

“Are you insane?!” Evan exclaimed, voice still hushed. “What if- How- This is NOT normal!”

“No shit, but it’s probably your only chance of escape.” Scotty reasoned, hopping out of the cell. Evan was quick to follow, shuffling along into the cold air of the night. It felt too easy, just running out like that, so of course they weren’t two minutes out the door when they heard the shout of:

“Hey! Get the fuck back here!” The deputy yelled, running out after the two escapees.

“Oh, well.” Scotty sighed. “So much for a smooth run, huh babe?” He didn’t wait for a response from whoever he was talking to (Evan assumed it wasn’t him) but instead booked it down a nearby alley, which Evan decided may be best to pursue.

As they darted through the streets, Evan decided that he’d never shoot a gun again.

* * *

The sheriff was out on the town, patrolling and getting a drink or two while he could. The local saloon was a hive for bar fights, plus there was excellent entertainment and drinks weren’t too dear.

Tonight, the crowd cheered for the ‘Shamrock Ranger’ as he was known infamously. He played guitar like he’d known it since birth and his voice flowed so naturally it was like a wave of euphoria to those blessed enough to hear it. To top it all off, he definitely had the looks to best any of the poor sods in this shithole.

The sheriff was currently lost in the singer’s voice, sitting on a barstool at the counter, drink in hand. The patrons of the bar generally steered clear of the sheriff, afraid of his power over them (and his pistol). Occasionally he’d get a swear or a drunken insult thrown his way, but it’d be brushed off as quick as he could sip the alcohol in his glass. At least he had a damn job. A well-paying one too.

He was disturbed from his musical paradise when he heard yelling from outside the saloon. Glancing out the door he spotted his deputy chasing the two people he’d put in holding just a few hours ago.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.” He groaned, downed the rest of his drink, and rushed out the door, whipping out his pistol as he ran.

“Hey, Sheriff! Please don’t be mad!” The deputy yelled as his superior officer caught up to him.

“Can’t have one night of peace, can I? I’m a simple man; I like music.” The sheriff huffed to the other, bolting through the night.

“Ya sure it’s not ‘cause of that pretty boy on guitar, sir?” The deputy snickered.

“Shut your mouth and catch up to those scumbags.” The sheriff scoffed. If only the deputy was as interested in his job as he was interested in Tyler’s personal life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why’d Evan get locked up? How did they escape? And who’s Tyler’s idiot deputy? 
> 
> Find out on the next episode of Red Dead Banana Bus...


	2. sworn vengeance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ay it’s ya boi
> 
> So I’ll try to do updates every second or third day, since I’m mowing through all these chapters. It gonna be p long, so ya
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated loves! :)

The night whistled by as they raced towards the train station. The steam engine in sight and ready for departure. The sheriff an deputy weren’t far behind, but they seemed to be slowing a little, probably tired from chasing them halfway across the town.

They didn’t have money. That was the only problem with trying to buy train tickets. Scotty didn’t think they needed the tickets however, as they were already on the run, and no one was all that bothered to shoo them off, so they hopped the barrier with ease and dashed towards the train.

They took refuge in a small and kinda rusty storage car full of straw and hay (and smelled like smoke for some reason), just as the train began to pull out. They caught a glimpse of the sheriff and deputy’s distraught faces as the the train sped up, silently celebrating to themselves.

“Well, that could have gone better.” Scotty smiled at Evan, inviting him to sit on one of the many hay bales scattered around the car. Evan shook his head slowly.

“The hell are y’all doin’ in my car?!” A voice screeched, popping out from a hay bale nearer the back. He had raven hair and pale skin, but his eyes looked younger and sharply blue. He also had a pack of matches in his hand (which would explain the smokey smell), while the other curled into a fist that waved at them menacingly. “You two best get the hell out! No warrant, no search!”

“We’re not law enforcement and there’s actually three of us.” Scotty stated calmly. Evan was shocked by how cool and collected Scotty seemed to be, and by the fact that he said there was three of the them, when he could only see himself and Scotty.

“Yeah, you need to cool your jets there, buddy.” said the stranger who materialised from thin air. He had dark skin and dressed similar to Scotty, as in he definitely looked the part of an outlaw. They both had bandanas tied around their necks, and both carried knives of some sort on their belts. Their shirts were worn and sported various tears and rips, and their jackets were quite roughed and scuffed, Scotty’s more so than the other’s.

“AH! How’d you do that?!” Evan screamed, jumping backwards and landing butt-first on the hay, which only slightly cushioned the fall.

“No idea.” He said, shrugging a little. “Anyway, I hope you don’t mind letting a few fellow fugitives lay low in here for a while.” He continued, addressing the blue-eyed man.

“Oh, uh, I guess.” The stranger behind the hay bales shrugged. Now that it was mentioned, the man also looked a bit of an outlaw himself. “I would like a nap though, so don’t disturb me.”

“Fine by us.” Scotty replied, turning to the other new person. “Did you wake him up on the way out?”

“Who? the deputy? Might have.” He answered. “Though, it could have been the newbie over there.” He pointed to Evan.

“Oh! Evan,” Scotty addressed him, “this is Marcel, he’s my partner.” He pecked Marcel on the cheek.

“Wh- But- He’s- He was invisible!” Evan curled into a ball, as everything society taught him since day one crumbled around him. “This is so much to take in.”

“Sometimes, Evan, you don’t believe all the things that people tell ya.” Scotty grinned.

* * *

“Hey, mind tellin’ me what the fuck happened back there?” The sheriff grumbled, practically dragging his deputy by his ear back to the station.

“They was slippery! I swear they’ve got some sorta voodoo magic ‘r something goin’ on!” The deputy protested, trying to yank his ear out with little success. “It’s really not ALL my fault sir, but I will take at least a bit of the blame.”

“Y’know what? You’re right. It’s also my fault for leavin’ a rookie like you in charge for more the five minutes.” The sheriff sighed, kicking open the station door and shoving the other inside. “If I didn’t know your situation I’d be goin’ and firin’ ya, kid.”

“And I’m so grateful you haven’t, sir.” The deputy said, rubbing his ear. “Also, I’ve got the finished paper work for today’s arrests sorted. Ya just need to look it over and pop yer signature on there, sir.”

“You’re not on duty now, kid. You can stop sayin’ ‘sir’ all the damn time. Go get some rest, you look like ya need it.” The sheriff held back a fond grin. 

“Yes, si-“ the deputy stopped. “Sorry. Yes, Tyler!” He fished out some tightly folded papers from his pocket and left them with the sheriff before trotting out.

“See ya tomorrow, kid.” Tyler called, sitting down and picking up the reports the deputy had left him.

He shuffled through them, nothing of interest popping up, just the same old shit about Scotty and his partner that the sheriff could never catch. Until he looked through the newbie’s file.

First Name: Evan 

Last Name: Unknown

Family: Unknown

Associate(s): Unknown

Conviction(s): Voluntary Manslaughter

Victim(s): Anthony Brine (deceased)

Date of offence(s): 18 February 1894

Date of arrest(s): 24 May 1897

Signature of sheriff: 

Signature of deputy:  _Jaren Summers_  
  


Evan had been on the run for three years. Three years and Tyler had finally found the exact bastard he was looking for. And then justice slipped out of his hands faster than he could have ever thought.

“DAMNIT!” He shouted to nothing, as the jailhouse was empty and the streets were mostly clear. He’d sworn when he took this job to seek vengeance upon the one who murdered Anthony, and he’d gotten away because Tyler had accidentally-on-purpose left his rookie deputy in charge and let the outlaws escape. Damn this sympathy and compassion. If he’d known what he’d done he’d have put a bullet through Evan’s skull in less than a heartbeat.

“Hey, Sheriff. This a bad time?” A familiar voice asked him from just outside the station doors, standing ominously in the dark.

“Just gimme a sec.” And with that, he signed the blank space on the document in his scruffy but legible handwriting.

Sheriff’s signature:  _Tyler Brine_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed up all the last names a bit for plot purposes so yea
> 
> Hope ya like it so far! Comments and kudos are appreciated loves!


	3. Mayor Hall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :O  
> Finished editing sooner than I expected, so here’s an early update!

“Come on in.” The sheriff said to his visitor, holding the door open.

“Ah, we think you might actually wanna come to us instead. We got a few things that need... discussing.” The man said, still not moving from the shadows.

“Oh yeah? Lemme grab my things, city boy, and I’ll be out to ya in a jiffy.” Tyler replied, snatching up the documents and checking that his gun was loaded before heading out and locking up the station for the night. The negotiations he was about to take part in tended to get pretty hectic if they weren’t careful.

“Stop calling me that. I was born here, y’know.” The man sighed, flicking a strand of chocolate-colored hair out of his eyes.

“Yeah, but ya got a funny name and talk like a posh one.” Tyler smirked, following the other towards the classier part of town. “Who names a kid ‘Brock’ anyway?”

“You never make fun of Brian.” Brock grumped, straightening his clothes a little. He was well-dressed, but not in a suit or anything fancy, just a tad more well-off than Tyler himself.

“I got respect for him. Born and raised in the country, despite being his father’s little pet. Plus, you’re the only one who’ll stomach it. Your ‘partner’ is a tickin’ time-bomb.” Air-quotes were put lazily over ‘partner’

Brian was more like Brock’s charge to be honest. They were inseparable wether they liked it or not. Brock was paid to stop the incredibly reckless man from getting himself killed, who seemed to constantly get into all sorts of trouble. If Brian’s family didn’t pay the sheriff, Brian’d be locked up on the spot. Unfortunately, he was a privileged little bastard with a short fuse and hunger for danger, so they hired Brock, a bodyguard of sorts. He’d did his job well, apparently, because that family had been known to fire and/or kill anyone who they deemed unworthy. And no one could do anything about it, because they ran the damn town.

“Brian’s... interesting. I really wish he’d stop getting himself into trouble, though. He’s a pain to clean up after.” Brock sighed.

“You’re tellin’ me, I’m the one who’s gotta clear all the paper work and I can’t even get Jaren to do it ‘cause the lad’s next to illiterate.” Tyler huffed. He was itching for a smoke right now.

“Well, I’m sure we both get enough grief from his father..” Brock sighed as they reached their destination: a large house on the edge of the town, complete with gargoyle statues guarding the front gates. “I just hope Brian doesn’t turn out the same way.”

* * *

“Invisible.”

“Yep.”

“In-visible.”

“You can say it over and over, kid. It don’t change what it is.”

“Witchcraft.”

“No, not quite.”

“Then what? What else could it possibly be?” Evan threw his hands up in the air with frustration.

“Well, I didn’t have ‘em when I was a kid, but then something happened when I was seventeen, and I couldn’t remember a good two years of my life. Now, six years later, I can use it when ever I want!” Marcel informed him.

“So, y’all can just... POOF?” Evan asked, making a little explosion with his hands. A cloud of dust fell through the air after him.

“Yeah.” Scotty’s said, leaning against Marcel. “Shame I don’t have anything cool, though.”

“You’re cool enough already.” Marcel told him.

“I also don’t get what you’re relationship is.” Evan stated. “It’s like, what with a mom and a dad, but... people get sentenced to death for that sorta thing! Aren’t y’all afraid o’ that?”

“A small price to pay for true love.” Scotty hummed. “We ain’t scared, kid. If you report us, though, we will shoot ya.”

Evan gulped. “I wouldn’t want to anyway.”

“Good! ‘Cause we were joking. We try not to kill anybody.” Marcel smiled warmly at him. “That reminds me, what was a softie like you doin’ locked up?”

“I’m... on the run.” Evan shuffled anxiously, scratching the goosebumps on the back of his neck. “I was forced to take a life.”

* * *

  
  


Tyler and Brock entered the house, walking up to the familiar brown doors of their boss’ office and knocking twice.

“Enter.”

They did, pushing open the heavy double-doors. The office was dark and cramped, with only a single candle burning of the desk, illuminating the room with an eerie and intimidating warm glow. They both stood in front of the desk, awaiting orders from their employer.

“Brine.” He addressed Tyler.

“Mayor Hall.” Tyler always had to stop himself from snickering when he spoke to Mayor Hall in the Mayor’s Hall.

“You’ve been looking to avenge yer brother for the last three years, correct?” He spoke with a thick gaelic accent, thicker than Brian’s, and sometimes it would take a minute for Tyler to figure out what he was saying.

“Yeah, that’s why I took this job in the first place, sir.” He answered, maintaining a straight face.

“Well, we’ve found his murderer.” He stated. “But, I’m sure you already know that. I’m also sure you know that the Hall family have been at war with the Graves family for generations. Well, I think this little job might benefit us both.”

Tyler raised a curious eyebrow. “I don’t follow.”

“That kid - the one who killed your brother - his name is Evan Graves, is it not?”

Tyler’s eyes widened, and his hand twitched towards his packet of cigarettes.

“Damn. Small world, ain’t it?” Tyler huffed with an annoyed and breathy chuckle.

“Hm.” The Mayor agreed. “Now, I was originally planning to give this job to my son, but when I saw who it was I thought I’d give ya a go at him. So I’m sending ye both. Don’t worry, you’ll get the kill.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Brock of course will accompany you, and I will see that your deputy has good supervision while you’re absent.” The Mayor continued. “They boarded the train that left the town at midnight tonight, didn’t they?”

“Yeah, slipped away from me just as we were catchin’ up.” Tyler muttered.

“Then they’ll be headed for Solitaire. That’s the next and last stop of that train, and they’ll be there in three hours. If y’all leave sharpish ye can at least make it an hour or two after ‘em if ye ride horseback.”

“Yessir.” Brock and Tyler chorused, turning to leave. 

“And boys,” The Mayor glared threateningly at them, eyes cold as the frozen north. “Don’t let ANYTHING happen to my son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated loves! <3


	4. Reeves

Evan sat on the edge of the car, legs dangling precariously in the wind.Scotty and Marcel slept in the back, but the other man who ‘owned’ the train car was up and about, tidying up the car, sweeping the hay into piles with his boots. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the disgruntled mumblings that came from him every so often.

“So, you own this car?” Evan asked him, giving into impulse and loneliness.

The man turned to face him, walking over and kneeling down beside him. “Uh, kinda. It was my dad’s. He’s dead now but... he liked it, so I’m gonna take care of it.”

“That’s really nice.” Evan smiled. “The other guys said you were a ‘fellow fugitive’, so uh, what’d you do?”

“Hah!” The man laughed almost cruelly, sighing a little at the end. “He doesn’t even know mah name and he’s diggin’ too deep. I like you.”

“Thanks, I think...” Evan mumbled.

“Y’all can call me Reeves. Not my first name but we’re not exactly best friends, now are we?” ‘Reeves’ told him.

“Huh, that name feels familiar. I’m Evan. My surname is irrelevant ’cause I ain’t part of that family anymore.” He replied, looking down at the tracks below.

“Can’t say I relate, but I think you’ll find that most people ‘round here don’t want nothin’ to do with the folks they’re sharin’ blood with.” Reeves chuckled, gazing at the night sky. “I can guarantee that your ‘friends’ back there hate their bloodlines with a damn passion.”

Evan looked at him curiously. “How do ya know?”

“You’re not from ‘round here, are ya?” Evan shook his head in response. “How old are ya?”

Evan took a while to add up the dates on his fingers. “Twenty-four.”

“Still, you’re naïve as hell.” Reeves smirked again. “I try to look on the brighter side of life, but there ain’t no town that don’t hang, draw and quarter folks for bein’ who they are. Love ain’t free, man.”

“Hm.” Evan hummed, reflecting in his mind. “I’ve never been in love.”

“I was, once. He tried to kill me.”

* * *

Tyler had everything packed in record time. Brock and Brian were already be the stables waiting for him, and Jaren was all good-to-go come morning. Everything was going perfectly.

Except HE was there.

“Shit, really?” The smooth, deep voice asked the stable’s attendee. 

“I’m sorry, she’s just not up for a long journey like that.” The stablehand sighed, petting a horse with a cinnamon colored coat on her lighter mane.

“Oh dear god, I’m dead!” The musician sighed, rubbing his forehead in dismay. He looked distraught and hopeless, and Tyler felt that damn compassion take over again.

“Hey!” He called over to the other. “Where’re y’all headed?”

“S-Solitare. Next town east o’ here.” The Ranger replied, walking over. “My boss needs a meetin’ with me, I’m over if I don’t make it, and the trains are all WAY too pricey.”

“We’re headed to Solitaire. We could give ya a ride?” Brian piped up, moving over to them. “Me da won’t mind us usin’ one of the other horses.”

“Brian-“

“No, shut up, Brock. I’m in charge.” Brian huffed.

“Correction: as the sheriff, I’m in charge, but I agree with you. It won’t do us any harm to help out a fella in need.” Tyler smiled at the guitarist. “Don’t believe we’ve formally met. Sheriff Tyler Brine, at yer service.” He tipped his hat.

“I’m Brian Hall, this is Mr. Do-Good.” Brian said, getting a frown from Brock.

“‘Course I know who ye are, yer the Mayor’s son. Pleased ta meet ye all. Name’s David.” David smiled graciously. “Thanks for this.”

“It’s what I’m paid for. That and lockin’ up criminals.” Tyler sighed. He turned to the horses, four of which were in the same stable. “Suppose I take Quinn, Brian can take Scarlett, Brock can take Dusk and you’ll take Evergreen, okay?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Brian answered, moving towards a dark brown coated horse with a black mane, who looked capable of murder.

“Quick question: which ones Evergreen?” David asked.

“Ah,” Tyler walked over to the rest of the horses, standing in between a pure white horse and a tawny horse with a white mane. He rested his hand on the tawny one’s nose. “This is Quinn. The one beside him is Evergreen.”

“Oh.” David blinked, then began to attach his guitar case and bags to the the horse and its reins. “So I take it the black one is Dusk?”

“Yep, she’s my favourite.” Brock smiled, hopping onto the horse.

“They’re all your favourite, Brocky.” Brain rolled his eyes and cracked Scarlett’s reins. “Now let’s get a move on. We’ve got places to be.”

* * *

“So,” Marcel sighed, addressing the group. “When we get to Solitaire-“

“If.” Reeves corrected him. “If we get to Solitaire.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Evan asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I’m just sayin’: ambushes are pretty common, plus y’all’ve put a damn bounty on our heads now.” Reeves said, glaring at the trio.

“We ALREADY had a bounty on our heads, idiot.” Scotty spat back, glaring harder.

“Anyway, Evan, are you gonna be sticking with us?” Marcel asked him.

“Uhm...” Evan thought about it for a minute, weighing out the pros and cons of sticking with ACTUAL CRIMINALS. 

“Ya know what? Ya can decide when we get there. As for you, Mr. Reeves, shall we be parting ways?” Marcel turned to the two locked in a glaring-contest.

“Oh, uh...” Reeves stopped and glanced briefly at Evan. “I’d also like to answer that when we get there.”

“Sure, fuckin’ whatever.” Marcel sighed. “IF you decide to come with us, there will be rules to follow.”

“Do NOT speak unless we tell you to. You will probably get yourselves killed.” Scotty said.

“If you’re gonna steal check with us first. If you take from the wrong people, you’re gonna draw some unwanted attention to us.” Marcel explained. “If we’re lucky, we can slip in and out of this town without any trouble from other folks.”

“No murder. Manslaughter is chill, but no murder. That’s fucked up.” Scotty informed them.

“We will be using CODE NAMES. No one needs to know our real names, got it?” Marcel continued.

“Wait, should we establish code names beforehand, just in case?” Evan asked, raising his hand.

“Look at this fuckin’ guy! ‘Establish’ and ‘beforehand’! Where’d you come from that they talk all fancy-like, huh?” Scotty scoffed.

“At least the boy is educated. That’s something.” Marcel muttered, giving Evan a curious glance. “If ya want a name, you can be... ‘Tanner’.”

Evan scrunched you his nose in disgust. “Gross. What about you guys?”

“You don’t have to worry about me.” Marcel smirked. “No one’ll even know I’m there.”

“Invisibility, right.” Evan mumbled.

“As for me, y’all can call me ‘Benji‘ when we’re out-and-about.” Scotty grinned smugly, happier with his fake-name than Evan was with his. “Reeves if ya come with us you can be ‘Carter.’”

“Alright.” Reeves nodded.

“So, what exactly are we gonna be doing there?” Evan asked them.

“Mostly laying low, but I think we might have a few things to take care of before we can get on the road again.” Scotty replied. “Don’t suppose you two’ve got much to do in ol’ Solitaire?”

Reeves shifted a little on his hay bale. “N-Nah, not me.”

“Yeah, I ain’t got business with anyone but the sheriff.” Evan answered.

“Okay, since y’all obviously don’t feel comfortable tellin’ us any sorta truth, which is completely understandable given our situations, we’re just gonna ignore ya until ya become a problem.” Marcel sighed, fully unamused.

“And if ya do become too much of a problem,” Scotty grinnned, “we need not remind y’all that we’re fully comfortable with breakin’ the law a bit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven’t got anything against people called Tanner btw, it’s just the first name I thought of


	5. from Atlan to Solitaire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Atlan is the name of the first town btw
> 
> One may ask: ‘why did you name the horses?’  
> Because I damn wanted to, that’s why.

It was surprisingly cold, for the western desert plains anyway. That was one of the advantages of travelling by night.

The disadvantages were poor visibility and a high chance of getting ambushed by bandits.

Unfortunately, the disadvantages seemed to constantly outweigh the advantages, or someone up there really had it out for Tyler Brine.

So currently, the four travellers and their horses were sheltered behind a large rock, hiding from the gunfire from the bandit group ahead.

“We’re all dead as dog food in a dustbin.” David mumbled, sinking down to his knees. His face was painted white with fear, his already pale skin looking paler in the white glow of the moonlight.

“This is completely YOUR fault!” Brian hissed at Tyler, as the four pressed their backs against the cold, smooth surface of the rock.

“It is NOT. If anything you can blame my halfwit deputy!” Tyler snarled back. He peeked around the edge of the rock, firing a few shots with his own pistol.

“Tyler, be careful!” Brock gasped as a bullet few horrifyingly close to the sheriff’s ear.

“Don’t worry.” Tyler smiled. “I’ve been in a bunch of situations like this before. Just trus-“

Tyler fell to the ground, the bullet wound soaking a massive patch near his stomach with blood trickling quickly out. He’d bleed out in minutes.

“Holy shit. I told ya.” David muttered, but was ignored.

“David, I’m gonna do something but you can’t question it!” Brock yelled over the bullets still flying.

“I- What?!” David shouted back, helping Brock to drag Tyler’s dying body behind the rock. “What do ye mean?!”

“Shut up and don’t question it.” Brian told him, letting Brock do whatever it was he was gonna do.

Brock placed his hands over Tyler’s stomach, and a strange liquid began to appear on his fingertips and drip down onto the wound. The liquid had the same consistency as milk, and changed color from a peachy orange to light pink as it fell. As the drops hit the wound, they seemed to morph into flesh, repairing the wound the the sheriff’s stomach. He blinked awake, looking around in confusion.

“What the fucking fuck?!” David exclaimed in pure bewilderment.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine.” Brian said, crouching down to put a hand on the musician’s shoulder.

“IT IS SO FAR FROM FINE!” David screamed, shrugging Brian’s hand away. “THAT’S FUCKIN’ WITCHCRAFT, THAT’S WHAT THAT WAS!”

“LESS SHOUTING, MORE SHOOTING!” Tyler snapped at them, having made a miraculously quick recovery, he tossed them pistols of their own. David didn’t even look at the gun, but Brian swiftly picked his up and started firing at the bandits.

“There’s one more, on your left, sheriff.” Brian yelled to him, as he ran out of ammo.

Tyler turned sharply to his left, putting a bullet directly through the man’s skull. He sighed, then turned to Brock with a deadly look.

“WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?!” Tyler threw his pistol to the ground.

“Tyler, I can explain-“

“MY ASS! WHAT FUCKIN’ FREAKY-“

“HEY! He saved your life, didn’t he?” Brian interjected, stepping in front of Brock. “Don’t ye think that counts for something?! You’d be DEAD, if it wasn’t for him, so show a little decency and respect!”

“Thanks, Brian.” Brock sighed, a bit relieved.  Tyler however, was conflicted.

On one hand: Brock DID just save his life.

On the other: WHAT THE FUCK?!

“If you have a good explanation for THAT, I’d be thrilled to hear it.” Tyler snarled, folding his arms.

“There’s a reason I look after Brian. I have these... abilities. I can heal wounds, physically at least.” Brock informed him.“You have no idea just how dangerous, reckless and irresponsible Brian can get. If I didn’t have this gift, he’d be dead for sure.”

Tyler blinked. “Brian? You in on this?” Brian nodded in response. “Thought Brock was born into your family’s business?”

“Yeah, he was.” Brian replied. “He was originally just a slave, but my father promoted him after he healed my broken arm one day. And he’s right; I’d be dead if it weren’t for him.”

“This is so much to take in.” David shivered. “Next time, I’ll just drink my troubles away.”

“A-fuckin’-men.” Tyler muttered.

They hopped back onto their horses, which had somehow managed to avoid getting shot in all the ruckus, and set off again, eager to get going.

“If we’re being completely open here-“

“Brian, I swear if I find out you’ve got some sorta witch-power as well...” Tyler groaned.

“Uh...” Brian looked away sheepishly.

“ _Brian_. ” Tyler hissed.

“Fine, I can imitate any voice, but I have to hear it first.” Brian spat on the ground at the end as some sort of punctuation.

“Oh wow, next thing y’all gonna tell me is David here has magical music.” Tyler pointed aggressively at the poor guy, who really hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I’ve heard him play, and magical is definitely how I’d describe it. It’s truly amazing.” Brock chimed in.

“Ah, whatever.” Brian scoffed. “It’s decent.”

“Do I smell jealousy?” Tyler grinned smugly, turning to Brian.

“No!” Brian exclaimed, face beet-red. “I don’t get jealous! Plus, I’ve nothing to be jealous of. If I wanted to sing good, I wouldn’t even have to imitate anyone.”

“Actually, I would like to hear you use that there power.” Tyler said. “Could be a valuable asset to our mission.”

“Alright. Any requests?” Brian grinned.

* * *

They were all in stitches by the time Brian had worn himself out with impressions. He had done Mayor Hall, Deputy Jaren, and even Tyler, much to Tyler’s disgust.

“Wow, that’s good.” David chuckled, as Brian mocked Tyler getting shot in the stomach.

“That’s a serious thing, man!” Tyler scolded him. “You’ve proved your damn point, now shut the hell up.

“Okay, okay.” Brian smirked, snickering a little as Brock tried to recover from his fit of (adorable) giggles.

“So, what business do y’all have in Solitaire?” David asked them.

“We’s gonna hunt us an outlaw.” Tyler declared. “The bastard killed my brother, and I’m gonna avenge the fuck outta him.”

“Yeah!” Brian cheered. “My father told me that he wronged our family as well, so that’s why I’m coming. Brock is here because-“

“-because if I wasn’t, all three of you would lying dead in the middle of nowhere.” Brock sighed.

“Fair enough.” Brian shrugged.

“So, uh... Sheriff, huh? That must be exciting!” David said to Tyler, eager to change the subject.

“Exciting is certainly... a word for it.” Tyler sighed, taking a quick glance at the other. “My town isn’t exactly a hub for any big mobsters or whatever. There’s Brian’s sketchy-ass family, but they’re my employers. Then there’s the Graves family, who lay low and don’t show their faces ‘less there’s a lot of coin involved.”

“Graves? I know that name.” David muttered. “I think my boss married into that family.”

“Shit, you’re kiddin’ me!” Tyler exclaimed, adjusting his hat. “Y’all’s gonna have to give me some sorta way to contact ya! After I give that murderin’ bastard what he deserves, you might be able to help me bring down a whole-ass crime family!”

“Ah, I don’t know about that...” David said nervously. “I mean, I’d be out of a job! I can’t manage my own gigs! I can barely count!”

“I’m sure I could hook ya up with my boss. Y’know, the Mayor of Atlan?” Tyler smirked as David’s face lit up.

“Really?!” David beamed. “Yeah! Okay, uh, I’ll probably be either at the inn or at City Hall if ya need me. I wish ye luck on your... revenge, I guess.”

‘ _Although_ ,’ David thought,  ‘ _he probably won’t need it when he’s got those two with him_.’


	6. planning ahead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be a little slower from now on. Maybe once or twice a week, but I’ll try my best <3

As the train pulled into the station, hissing and screeching as it slowed to a halt, all four of the outlaws quickly scrambled off the train, heading further into the town.

“There’s gotta be a bar or a saloon ‘round here somewhere. This town’s full of posh folk.” Scotty muttered, ducking into a nearby alley. It’s true the town looked like it did a lot nicer than Atlan money-wise. The few people that were out that early carried parasols and the buildings looked new and polished.

“I can go look ahead if ya want.” Marcel said, disappearing with a quick nod from Scotty.

“Let’s try lay low for now, yeah?” He told the other two.

“How low? ‘Cause there’s a strange fella lookin’ right at us.” Reeves whispered, gesturing over to a silhouetted figure outside the alley, heading towards them.

“Shit, play it cool.” Scotty said to the other two, straightening up a bit.

“Hey there, folks.” The stranger nodded to them. He let out a puff of whatever it was he was smoking. “Nice night.”

“It is.” Scotty replied. “Can we help ya?”

“Sheriff John Stone. Y’all best not cause me no trouble now, or I’ll lock ya up for longer than it takes ya to learn a new language.”

“I’m sure we won’t be gettin’ in yer way at all, Sheriff.” Scotty chuckled causally. “Me and my friends here just caught the last train in, so we’ll probably be retirin’ for the night in a few.”

“‘Course. I’ll be seein’ ya, gentlemen.” The sheriff turned and tipped his hat to them, wandering off into the night.

Evan and Reeves let out the breath they didn’t know they were holding, their tensed shoulders relaxing at last.

“That was so terrifying.” Evan mumbled, with a hum of agreement from the other.

“No problems, fellas.” Scotty’s grinned. “Ya just gotta have confidence is all.”

“I ain’t used to openly breakin’ the law! I does it secretly, all discrete like!” Reeves sighed. “Damn, this is worse than I thought.”

“Marcel’ll be back in a minute, just hold on.” Scotty whispered to them.

* * *

  
  


“We shouldn’t be that far now.” Brock said, glancing at the position of moon briefly.

“How long we been travelling?” David asked, giving Evergreen a comforting rub.

“Uh, I’d say about three hours. We should get there in another forty-five minutes or so.” Brock replied.

“So, Tyler, you got any sorta plan?” Brian asked him.

“What? Why should I be the one with the plan?!” Tyler groaned.

“Because you said, and I quote, ‘As the sheriff, I’m in charge’ so yeah, you SHOULD be the one with the plan.” Brian snapped back.

“Are they always like this?” David whispered to Brock. He nodded sadly.

“Anyhow, if I DID have a plan I’d say we ask the town’s sheriff, maybe check a few local inns or bars. We don’t shoot innocents, though. No civilians get caught in the crossfire, that includes David here.” Tyler declared sternly.

“Thank ye.” David mumbled graciously.

“Okay, but me and Brock don’t know what they look like.” Brian informed him.

“Right, the one we’re after is Evan Graves. Tanned skin, short enough and a mess of fluffy black hair. The other is taller, got shorter, brown hair and paler skin, named Scott McCreery.” Tyler recalled. “We only want Evan. We could arrest Scott and any other associates he may have, but I think we should leave that to the sheriff of Solitaire.”

“Wait, if Evan’s part o’ the Graves family, why’d don’t ya just go through him to get to the Graves family, then kill ‘im, I guess.” David shuffled a bit, kind of uncomfortable.

“Because he’ll definitely find some kind of way to get away. We have to kill him as soon as possible.” Tyler answered firmly.

“A-Actually, I think maybe David’s right. If we do it your way, Tyler, we’d be putting an innocent civilian,” Brian gestured to David, “in harms way, which would be against your sheriff’s code, or whatever.”

“Brian, if I didn’t know you any better - which I now realise is a completely worthless thing to say because I literally JUST found out that you’ve got witch-magic or somethin’ - I’d say y’all’re feelin’ pity for the lad.” Tyler narrowed his eyes at Brian, who looked very anxious. “Dare I say, SYMPATHY.”

“No, no! It’s not that at all!” Brian insisted. “But uh, maybe, we should uh, try David’s way? It’d be safer, for everyone.”

“Brian’s right, y’know.” Brock pointed out. “Your plan is reckless, dangerous, and frankly a little stupid, and hardly a plan at all. If we kill Evan on the spot, we’ll have the whole Graves family hunting us down.”

“Fuckin’ fine. We’ll do it your way.” Tyler huffed reluctantly. “If it goes south, it ain’t my fault, and Brian’s dad can kill you for all I care.”

“I don’t even wanna know what you mean by that.” David shuddered.

* * *

“Okay,” Marcel whispered, reappearing beside the group. “There’s a sketchy enough bar a bit down the street which is more our style, if ya get me.” Evan and Reeves shook their heads but Scotty seemed to understand.

“Basically ruffed-up scumbags like us ain’t gonna be too welcome in a regular, fancy-shmancy place. We gotta stick to the shadier places.” Scotty told them. “If the three of us rock up in the shadier bar, we’ll be... more at home.”

“Okay. Where’re we headed?” Reeves asked.

“We’re headin’ just down the street here, into the third alley on the right. I’ll be beside ya the whole time.” Marcel said, directing the last part to Scotty.

“Okay, let’s go. Act like you’re innocent.” Scotty whispered as Marcel disappeared again.

“Easier said than done.” Evan muttered, following the other two out of the alleyway.

They strolled very casually over to the other side of the dusty street, not saying a word. Scotty (being led by an invisible Marcel) led them into the other alley, to a green door with soft light spilling out of it. He knocked five times on the door, and a very muscular woman peeked out.

“Password?” She whispered, glaring at the group.

Marcel must have whispered him the answer, because Scotty’s hand tightened around something invisible after a moment. “Speak your mind, but ride a fast horse.” Scotty answered.

Apparently, it was the right answer, and the woman opened the door to let them in. “Enjoy yer night, sirs.” She growled, straightening out the creases of her dress.

“Thank ya.” Evan whispered to her. She raised an eyebrow at him, obviously in used to people with manners at all. She gave him a quick smile, before running off behind the bar.

It wasn’t too crowded in there. A few people, mostly men, sat at the tables, smoking tabaco and drinking themselves stupid. A few bar maidens scurried around, with the odd male waiter helping out. The group took to a table near the wall, ordering a couple of drinks from the maiden who let them in. When they offered to pay, she gave Evan a wink and slid his money back to him. He smiled in silent thanks.

“That sheriff ain’t gonna be too far behind us.” Scotty said in a hushed voice. “He’ll probably be lettin’ that other sheriff know we’re bad news.”

“Why the hell would the sheriff of Atlan follow us all the way to Solitaire?” Reeves asked.

“‘Cause I killed his brother.” Evan muttered, swirling the ice in his drink with his finger.

“Wha?! Oh jeez, that ain’t good.” Reeves gasped.

“Hm, yeah I looked at your paperwork before we left the cell.” Scotty told them. “Anthony Brine was Tyler’s brother, so I guarantee the first chance he gets, he’ll put a bullet through yer brain.”

“Oh my god, we’re all gonna die. Why didn’t I just stay on the train?!” Reeves cried, putting his head in his hands.

“The next part’s even worse.” Scotty sighed. “If the sheriff’s outta town, that means the mayor musta sent him. That also means that the mayor sent his son with him. So long-story-short, we’re completely and utterly fucked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the bar password I literally looked up ‘cowboy sayings’


	7. not a chapter

hey so uh

I am not in any fit state mentally to continue writing this book.

So I’ll either abandon it, put it on hold, or let someone else take over writing.

hope ya understand <3

thanks for the kudos and comments, loves


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